Let Somebody In
by SHolmes4
Summary: Snapshots of Sherlock and John's relationship. Cute little domestic, angsty, sexy, etc.. Prompts welcome.Each chapter is a story.
1. Capable

AN: These are just little cute domestic and/or sexy glimpses into S/J relationship. (Same sort of layout as my Brother's story if you've read that...)

Feel free to suggest prompts please! They are super appreciated (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!

* * *

><p>The two men where curled up, John slotted behind the taller man with his arm thrown over his slender bedmate. Daylight was streaming into the room, rousing the older man from the grips of sleep as his hand absently stroked the sliver of skin under it. Carefully he propped himself up to peak over the sharp shoulder of Sherlock Holmes.<p>

"John…" The dark haired man grumbles, still appearing to be asleep as he catches him out.

"Sorry," he offers, "It's after noon…"

Sherlock hums rolling onto his back, and flinging his arm over his eyes against the harsh light. "First you complain I don't sleep, now you're interrupting it…" he sighs tiredly, "Do make up your mind."

"You're right…" John smirks fondly.

"I always am," He states flatly, earning a shove from the other man.

"Piss off," he pouts, peaking at the older man under his arm before burring himself under the duvet.

"Fine, but there are things to do," he nods, slipping out of the warm bed.

"What things?"

"Dull things like the washing," he roughly yanks the duvet off of Sherlock, catching him by surprise and carrying it out of the room.

"John Watson, bring that back this instant!" Sherlock shouts.

"Well since you asked so nicely…" John calls from the living room, "No!"

Sherlock fumes curled up in a ball in the middle of the mattress as the cool room invades him, as the other man clanks about the flat. He tosses about, his mind still only partially awake even though physically he was fully awake. Sitting it up, he groggily strode out of the room and found the duvet in the hall way, quickly snatching it up and wrapping it around himself.

"That needs to be washed," John informs him peaking out into the hall.

"It's in use," Sherlock glares petulantly, stalking off to the couch and throwing himself on it.

"If I make coffee will you relinquish it?"

There's silence while the offer is processed, "Perhaps…"

"You gunna be like this all day, then?" John frowns a bit, as he starts on the coffee. Silence filling the flat as Sherlock either is ignoring him or trying to go back to sleep, "Maybe a case will crop up…" he hopes, even though it had only been a day or so since they closed the last one.

"I have one," Sherlock answers once he's sitting up with his warm mug clutched in his slender fingers. "A case, I mean."

"Oh?" John hums, tossing the newly procured duvet and tossing back into the hall with the rest of the wash. "When did this come about?" He sits in his chair, picking up the paper.

"This morning…"

"What's it about, then?"

"An evil little doctor and his terrible bedside manner," Sherlock states darkly.

John rolls his eyes catching on, "You're being ridiculous," he peaks over at the pouting man, "Would it kill you to help out with something's, instead of mopping about?"

"Oh not this again," he sighs dramatically, "I have more important things to do…"

"What?" he snaps, "When you don't have a case you mope about and complain about boredom, there's plenty of things around here that need doing."

"Yes, and you handle them quite well," Sherlock intones.

John tosses down the paper and stands up, "At risk of sounding like Mrs. Hudson, I'm not your bloody house keeper." He shouts.

"Obviously," he hums, in disinterest.

"Right," the older man nods, striding from the room. Returning fully dressed with an arm full of clothes and dropping onto the man on the couch. "Here," he snaps, "Take care of this yourself, and…" He procures a felt tip and takes Sherlock's slender arm in his hand, writing a list on it. "Pick up the shopping as well," he recaps the marker and tosses it at Sherlock's head.

"John," Sherlock calls, still reeling at what just happened, "What...Where are you going?"

"You're the genius, figure it out!" John shouts, grabbing his jacket, slamming the door and storming out of the flat.

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><p>REVIEW Please!<p> 


	2. Capable2

John returned sometime after dark, he spent the day wondering about for about an hour before seeing if he could come into the clinic for a bit so the day wasn't too wasted. When he got back, Sherlock was in the shower by the sound of it. He peaked into the bedroom to find the clothing from earlier pressed and folded. That alone was surprising, but a pleasant development. He'd half expected to find Sherlock still on the couch with the articles of soiled clothing all over him. Curiously he wandered to the kitchen to find the odd bits needed from Tesco's.

"Why should I help?" Sherlock's voice startled John, as the man strode into the living room freshly showered in just his towel. John looking to see he was on the phone, "Surely there's little leg work, you could solve it yourself while sitting on your fat arse." He riffles through the desk.

John awkwardly clears his throat to alert the other man of his presence, not sure if he noticed it or not. Sherlock turned his sharp gaze on the smaller man across the room, giving him a nod.

"Well that's too bad, we're both too busy to solve the case, terribly sorry…" he lies hanging up the phone as John shrugs out of his jacket.

"Um… hullo."

"John," Sherlock greets solemnly.

"You remembered the shopping," he nods.

"How could I forget," he states, holding out his bare arm, with the wrist still written on it; the skin underneath rubbed red to try and remove it.

"Sorry," John quirks his mouth, a bit amused.

"It's unfortunate you had to work on your day off."

"Yea, well…" he huffs, "Any real cases then?"

"No, Mycroft," Sherlock explains, "Being lazy…as usual."

"Ah," he nods, willing the awkwardness to end.

"I don't mean to treat you like my house keeper, as you put it, I do know how to do menial tasks."

"I know Sherlock, it would be nice if you helped out a bit is all," John states knowing this was the younger man's way of apologizing, "Do it together even."

"Very well…" Sherlock strides across the room and drops a kiss onto the shorter man's mouth before exiting to go get dressed.

"Dinner?" John asks with a smirk as he turns back to the kitchen.

"Thought we'd go out, Thai?" the deep voice calls from the bedroom.

"I suppose…" he agrees as they fall back into normalcy, leaving the kitchen to lean in the door way of the bedroom; watching the other man. "We could order in though…"

"Preferable," Sherlock smirks, slipping into his jimjams instead of his trousers.

"Lovely," John enters the room with a smile, kissing his flat-mate soundly to further show the acceptance of the apology. "Go order while I have a shower," he instructs slapping Sherlock on the arse to shoo him out the door, removing his jumper on the way to the loo.

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><p>REVIEW Please and Thankyou!<p>

Feel free to suggest prompts! They are super appreciated and chances are I'll use it. (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!


	3. Here

John's eyes narrowed as soon as Sherlock stepped into the living room and swung off his coat, tossing it on the sofa. He gripped his mug tighter as he made some deductions of his own, "Explain yourself," he orders.

"Hmm…" Sherlock hums, already sitting across the room on the laptop. "Oh yes, I'd love some tea thanks."

The older man's jaw tenses as he walks up to where his mate sat, placing his mug loudly on the table.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'd prefer my own," he states, scrolling over an article.

"You've been smoking," John intones with forced calm, causing the other man to pause. "I can smell it," he adds, stopping any denials.

"I was following a suspect John…"

"Really," he crosses his arm, "Where to? An ash tray?"

"If you must know…" Sherlock sighs, "It was for the case. I couldn't very well follow him to designated smoking area and not, plus it afforded me the chance to have a nice little chat." He smirks, "He didn't do it by the way," he returns to the computer and pages down.

"That's good to know," he nods sardonically, "The case is always more important than your lungs."

"It was one, hardly a setback…" He turns back to the other man, "Am I to understand that you're fine with me being shot at and threatened, but one cigarette has you in tizzy, priorities…" he tisks.

"That's a necessary evil Sherlock, I'm not an idiot thanks," John sighs.

"I see…"

"Do you?" he narrows his eyes doubtfully.

"Yes, and as always your worry about what I choose," he emphasizes, "To do to myself, is misplaced." He spares the other man a brief glance as he rises to the kitchen.

"Hang on," John follows, "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?" He asks earnestly as he looks up from his experiment.

"Brush off the fact that I actually care about you, that anyone does for that matter."

"As always you're reading emotionally into this love," Sherlock shakes his head absently, going back to his chemistry set.

"Right, silly me for knowing you well enough to realize that you see yourself as expendable."

"Expendable?"

"Yes, didn't I just say," John mocks.

"It was one cigarette."

"It's not about that anymore Sherlock."

"Can we really not do this, I'm sorry… is that what you want?"

"It's a start," John stares at him resolutely. "Look, I know this is new and illogical," John begins, rubbing the back of his neck, "But it's me, yea… You don't have to prove or hide anything from me… I know you, sometimes better then you know yourself… That's all I'm sayin'."

Sherlock studies him for a moment, the older man squirming a bit awkwardly under the scrutiny. "Are we done?" he states slowly.

"Yeah, we're done…" he turns, heading back to the living room and sitting at his laptop to type up an old case.

Hours pass in silence when John nearly knocks his laptop off the table when a loud shout resonates through the flat.

"Brilliant," Sherlock cries, accompanied by the sound of a chair being knocked over, "John where's my phone?"

"Um…" he looks about before finding, the detective already upon him as he brandishes the mobile, "Here…" he's cut off by an enthusiastic kiss. "Wha?" He reels.

"You're an amazing conductor, John," he informs him earnestly, his fingers quickly punching at the keys of his device.

"Ya, you've said… Sorry, what did I do?"

"It was the neighbor," Sherlock explains, "I figured it was the girl-friend framing him because it was obviously someone close to the suspect," he states quickly, "However, said girl friend who not only tolerates the habit of smoking, would possibly partake herself and would be aware of the brand her lover was partial to."

"But that's not the one that was at the scene?" he tries with a shrug.

"Exactly," he smirks proudly, "Now do you see the importance of tobacco ash?"

"Not remotely," John jests playfully, the other man's face falling. "Well, I'm glad I was of service."

"You're always of service."

"Mmm," he hums sitting back at his laptop to return to work.

Sherlock's mobile goes off with a response from Lestrade, causing him to grown dramatically. "Lestrades is on his way," he states procuring something from the kitchen.

"What for?"

"This," he place an evidence bag with notes on the desk next to the doctor, "Do make sure he gets it."

"Sure… Where you off to then?" John watches him warily.

"Nowhere," he stalks off the bedroom, "I'm not here," he adds closing the door.

Lestrade pops by, John making polite small talk and handing of the items he was instructed. After the D.I. leaves he finishes his write up before noticing that Sherlock's been awfully quite for an awfully long time. A brief glance at the clock informs him that it's almost nine, much later then he thought. He raps on the door to the bed room before opening it to peek in.

"Sherlock?" John calls, seeing the detective's curled form on the bed. "What are you up to in here?" he crosses to the bed.

"Sleeping," he murmurs.

"No you're not," he smiles, slipping behind the younger man and stroking his arm, "Everything all right?"

"Fine," Sherlock hums, "Relishing the silence."

The doctor nods, knowing full well Sherlock's mind was anything but silent because if it was he'd actually be a sleep. "You want me to go?" he moves to allow the other man his solitude.

"No."

John stays, wishing as usual he could understand that brilliant mind or at least be privy to more of it. He places an arm around the detective, Sherlock turning in his grasp to rest his head on John's good shoulder. The two men laying in silence, the doctor absently stroking the younger man's back.

"Eventually," Sherlock informs him, quietly answering the other's thought and earning a kiss of understanding on the top of his curly head.

* * *

><p>REVIEW Please and Thank you! (They are helpful and super appreciated)<p>

PLEASE! Feel free to suggest prompts! The chances are I'll use it and they really help inspire me. (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!


	4. Sherry

AN: Thank you to The Prompt Fairy ;D

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><p>The moment John steps into the flat he's greeted not by a hullo or how was your day, instead he's greeted with a resounding, "No."<p>

"Wha?" he sighs tiredly, with his small bundle in his hands.

"Whatever creature you are currently harboring, the answer is no, we can't keep it," Sherlock explains, "That is unless it's new test subject that you brought me," he adds hopefully.

"No, sorry," he reveals the small black kitten.

"A black cat, really?"

"You of all people are not superstitious…" John chuckles looking for a tin of tuna for the cat to eat.

"Don't be ridiculous John," he eyes the creature, "Out of either of us; you are more likely to be superstitious."

"Right…"

"It can't stay," Sherlock reiterates.

"Why, do you not like cats then?" he asks absently searching the cabinets.

"No, they're fine… I just don't want to keep one."

"Mhmm," John smirks, handing the detective the cat as he goes to check another cupboard.

"Take it away," he orders holding it awkwardly, the animal watching him intently.

"I think she likes you," he chuckles, finally finding what he was looking for.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sherlock snaps, "Feed it up then send it on its way," he hands it off heading to the laptop.

"It's freezing out there Sherlock, it needs a home." He sits in his chair holding the tin for the kitten to eat.

"It has more of a chance in the wild then it does in this flat," the detective offers plainly as he types in a search.

"It's the weekend," John reminds him, knowing full well Sherlock is checking the business hours of animal control and such. "Though I suppose you're right," he pets its fur, "I'm sure you'll survive till Monday," he coos to the creature.

"One can only hope," he replies as if John had been talking to him, looking up to see the other man was distracted by the kitten and frowning, "Mrs. Hudson!" he calls loudly waiting for a beat as the woman in question comes up the stairs.

"What is it dear?" She huffs, looking about the flat in mild panic. "Aw it's adorable," she smiles, going over to pet the animal.

"What's your policy on pets?"

"I told ya before, no pets Sherlock," she continues to scratch the kitten's inky head. Sherlock smirks triumphantly, "Though John, on the other hand…" she smiles.

"What?" The detective rounds on her.

"It's just for the weekend Mrs. Hudson," John informs her.

"That's quite alright dear, if you need to find 'em a home I'd be more than happy to take him off ya."

"Thank you," he offers.

"Sure thing," She smiles turning back to the younger man, "As for you," she begins sternly, "You aren't allowed a pet of any sort because the poor creature would be dead within a week."

"What are your bases for this assumption?" Sherlock narrows his eyes haughtily.

"Honestly Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson hums, "You barely take care of yourself, and I'd probably find the poor thing inside out in the microwave." She heads to the door, "'Night dears."

"Good night," John calls, as the other man pouts. "Come on darling it can't be that bad," he tries to coax him into the idea.

He keeps his resolve for a beat before sighing dramatically, "I suppose since it's only for the weekend." He drops into his chair across from the other man.

"I knew you'd come around," he smirks carefully picking up the kitten, "Gotta pop down to the shoppe and pick up a few things," he drops the cat onto Sherlock's lap. "Won't be long," he calls quickly leaving.

Sherlock glares at the creature in his lap as it attempts to climb up his chest, pausing to stretch. He picks it up and studies it, "You better play nice," he warns stroking its fur. When John returns Sherlock is perched on the back of his chair investigating his arm and the cat's nowhere in sight.

"Where is she?"

"Hmm…" Sherlock hums absently.

"The kitten," he snaps.

"Oh, over there," he motions flippantly.

John's eyes falling on a large bowl with books on top, he drops the bag and demonstrates the crude cage. "What's the matter with you?"

"Me?" the detectives sharp gaze falls on him with incredulity, "It's a creature of evil, it only plays cute when you're around."

"What happened, then?"

Sherlock shows the doctor his freshly scratched arm, "It attacked me."

"It happens Sherlock; it's what cats do when they aren't declawed.

"Well I'm sure you two will have a lovely weekend together," he snatches up his coat to leave.

"Come now," John sighs in exasperation, "I'm sure she's sorry."

"I'll be at Bart's," Sherlock calls back slamming out the door.

"Just us then, Sherry," he scratches the cats head, trying out a name for it.

* * *

><p>REVIEW Please and Thank you! (They are helpful and super appreciated)<p>

PLEASE! Feel free to suggest prompts! The chances are I'll use it and they really help inspire me. (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!


	5. Sherry2

Sherlock stormed into the lab at Bart's nearly startling off her stool. "Oh, hullo Sherlock," she composes herself, "Didn't think you'd show up tonight."

"Hmm…" he hums absently, before observing the woman. "You're a cat person," he states triumphantly, you have a cat… tolerate them…"

"Um, yes… I'm not a spinster or anything, but I have a cat." She hedges.

"Would you like another? You aren't superstitious are you?"

"Sorry…"

"John brought a black cat, or kitten I suppose, home," Sherlock explains, "Do you want it?"

"Ah, I guess…" Molly thinks a beat before deciding why not.

"Great, pick it up at will… preferably tomorrow… he may have already name the beast," he adds to himself before fleeing just as fast as he arrived.

Sherlock waltzes back into the flat, John on the floor with the animal. He looks up at the looming man above him with a small smile, "Back already?"

"You will be pleased to know I found the creature a home." He shrugs out of his coat and tosses it aside. "I'm too late however…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've named it already…"

"And what if I have?" John challenges.

"Nothing, Molly can probably change it if she wants."

"Ah," he nods, rolling the ball around in front of the rapt kitten. "Would you like to live with the nice post mortem lady, Sherry?" he asks.

"Oh god…now you're talking to it." Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"Says the man who talked to a skull…" he leads, "How are those scratches?"

The detective takes a look at his hand, "Not bleeding," he offers.

"Go wash it, I'll be there in a tick to take a look," John instructs.

"Yes sir," he mocks padding to the bathroom.

Sherlock thoroughly washes his hand as instructed, the cuts stinging a bit as he dries them off; but are nothing serious.

"Let's see the damage," John strolls in, as the other man sits on the lid of the toilet and holds out his hand for inspection. "Nothing serious," he nods, "Though I'll have to put a plaster on it, you don't want those chemicals you play with seeping in."

"Of course not," he nods with a vaguely intrigued look on his face, as if he was contemplating what would happen if he did.

"So Molly…" he leads as he sets about covering the scratches.

"Yes, she's thrilled to add to her collection."

"Be nice," John chides.

"Wasn't I?" he questions looking up at the older man, "We are giving her a cat."

"Yes which, according to you, is a demon beast," he chuckles.

"There's proof to support that," Sherlock pouts.

The doctor kisses the freshly bandaged scratch for good measure, "Don't take that off till morning," he warns, "And you need one on if you even think about playing chemist."

"Yes doctor," he nods darkly, with humor in his eyes.

John smirks, "Come here ya big idiot," he huffs, pulling him up by the back of the neck and bringing their lips together.

Sherlock quickly catches on, deepening the kiss as he stands up to press himself closer to the shorter man. Deftly he removes the doctor's jumper tossing on the tile as he kisses across John's jaw to his ear, teasing it gently.

"Bbed," John huffs, "Bedroom."

"Not here?" he questions in silky tone, "Shame."

"Later," he offers, composing himself to drag Sherlock to the bedroom.

The pair resumes kissing, John making his way down Sherlock's long neck as he works on the buttons of his shirt. Once the garment his off, John maneuvers the dark haired man to the bed pushing him down and crawling on top to straddle him. Sherlock slips his cool fingers under John's shirt, stroking his sides as John nips the junction where neck meets shoulder and illicit a groan.

John pushed him back, moving his way down the pale plains of Sherlock's bare torso. Kissing and nipping at will he pauses his attentions on Sherlock's nipple, a breathy gasp escaping the detective's lips. The pair freeze when a clatter is heard from the living room, the older man resting his forehead on the other mans chest as they listen. Sherlock questions him by propping himself up on his elbows.

"I'll go check, darling," he offers, giving the dark haired man a playful nip before he leaves the room.

"John…" Sherlock wines at the absence.

"Oh, for the love of…" He swears in the next room, before clanking about.

It seems like ages that he waits for the doctor to return, finally getting up to join the investigation. "John?"

"You where, right, you where bloody right," He snaps, sweeping up something in the kitchen.

"Really when are you going to realize I always am," Sherlock hums, looking about, "Where is the beast?"

"In time out," he motions to the same crude trap Sherlock had used earlier.

"Was that a beaker?"

"What's look like!" John snaps, "Luckily it was empty."

"This wouldn't have happened if you didn't bring that thing home…" He informs him as he curls up on the couch.

"I honestly don't know what I was thinking… I already have one," John insinuates in frustration.

"If I was any animal, it would not be a cat," Sherlock pouts.

* * *

><p>REVIEW Please and Thank you! (They are helpful and super appreciated)<p>

PLEASE! Feel free to suggest prompts! The chances are I'll use it and they really help inspire me. (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!


	6. Green

AN: Ask and you shall receive... (Don't be afraid to request anything)

* * *

><p>Sherlock was waiting at the restaurant, his long fingers drumming the table idly as he awaited the doctor's arrival. The time ticking by, as John became later and later; Sherlock becoming more and more bored.<p>

"You're late," the dark hair man intones.

"Five minutes," John shrugs, sliding into the booth across the table from the detective, "Hardly cause for alarm… What looks good?" he asks absently.

"No idea," he offers, sipping his coffee.

"You better eat," he warns over his menu.

"Hullo, I'm Harkin, I'll be your waiter this evening," the plain looking man smiles warmly at John. "Can I get ya something to drink while you peruse?"

"Um… ya, a pint would be great."

"No problem, be right back," Harkin nods heading off.

"Wanta share?" he hums.

"Fine," Sherlock intones with disinterest as they agree on a couple things to eat.

The waiter returns with John's drink, practically ignoring Sherlock even though he's the one who places their order. "Right, I'll get that put in for ya," he smiles again at the doctor before walking off.

"What's the matter?" John questions the pout on his partner's face.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No," he sighs, "Not usually."

"The waiter is flirting with you, and you're encouraging it."

John blanches at that, "It's called being friendly and sociable, you should try it sometime…" he shakes his head, "Besides we're clearly together."

"Yes, well that doesn't seem like a deterrent," he frowns.

"Come off it," he scoffs, "Excusing the fact that you don't know the first thing about flirting…" he starts.

"I think I'm more than capable of recognizing flirtation, when it's of importance," Sherlock cuts him off.

"No, don't get me wrong you can be right charming when ya wanta be." He smirks, "But you're too blunt for flirting."

"I can be subtle," he rumbles lowly.

"Says the man who's idea of foreplay is, 'hurry up I'm naked'…" John shakes his head before sipping his beverage.

"It seems to work."

"Yeah well you're lucky I'm easy."

The tease occurred right when the waiter showed up to refill John's water glass and replace the bread on the table. "Everything alright here," he asks only John.

"I would like more coffee," Sherlock glares at the server.

"Kay," he nods curtly walking off.

"Now I'll wait ages, while you're waited on hand and foot."

"Jealous?" John intones with a small giggle.

"I'm glad you're amused by such attentions…" he huffs.

"Sherlock," he softens, "I'm here with you, and I'm sorry I don't quite believe your accusations… I mean, if the blokes ignoring you for me… then he's clearly blind."

"Flattery doesn't work, and since there's no law the renders everyone attracted to the same things… it's clearly possible." He moves to get up.

"Where are you going?" John asks, wondering if Sherlock was really going to run off because of some silly waiter.

"Toilet, unless you care to assist…" he insinuates.

John glares, willing his imagination to not rise up the implications of that statement.

"Do see if you can procure more beverage for me," He strides off.

In Sherlock's absence the waiter comes by filling the coffee cup, John not feeling awkward at the now apparent attentions. "It should be right up," he smirks, blatantly eyeing the sandy haired man.

John merely nodding as he takes a large gulp of his pint and willing Sherlock to hurry up, the waiter leaving when the dark haired man saunters back to their table.

"He has to know we're together, is he really that thick?" John wonders aloud.

Sherlock quirks a brow, "Catching on are we?" he smirks blandly, "Perhaps he wants to steel you away…"

"It's just awkward now isn't," he sighs.

"Mhmm…" he hums checking his text massages.

The meal progresses the men chatting as they share their meal, the waiter still being over attentive, though warranting a polite cold shoulder from John and the boiling indignation from Sherlock that's continually ignored; even though he's the one ordering and paying. They settle the tab, John walking out quickly, on edge by the unwanted attention, Sherlock quickly joining him looking smug.

"Never going back there again are we…"

"Of course not, the food was decent at best and the staff inexcusable." He hails a cab.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you," John smirks.

"Please, I was hardly jealous," he sniffs as the slide into the awaiting cab. "Possessive on the other hand," he hums seductively.

"There's something wrong with you," he swallows, worrying the mad man might get them tossed out of the cab any moment.

Sherlock doesn't reply, merely turning his head to stare blankly out the window as they head home. When they finally arrive to Baker St. the younger man bounds out of the vehicle, leaving John to pay, not even waiting for him to rush inside the flat; the ex soldier wondering if Sherlock would be stroppy the rest of the night.

That thought was quickly dispelled once he was in the living room, Sherlock descending upon him before he was fully out of jacket and pressing him against the closed door. The taller man attacking his mouth with possessive fervor, as promised.

"Good to know you're actually human," John pants, as they pull apart for air.

"Hmm…" he rumbles, "I could have had my way with you at the restaurant," he smirks, slipping his knee between the other man's legs.

"People would really talk," he manages breathily, pulling the dark haired man back for a kiss.

Sherlock deftly removes John's jumper, forcefully moving his head to the side so he can kiss his way down the tanned neck of his soldier. He nips the flesh causing a moan to escape the shorter man, as he continues to mark him. John pushing the blazer from Sherlock's sharp shoulders before starting on his shirt buttons. The younger man's shirt is quickly un-tucked and pushed off to join the other garments on the floor. Sherlock leaning back briefly to start on John's shirt, the doctor using the opportunity to hurtle them forward and successfully pin Sherlock on the floor under him.

John laces their fingers together over the dark haired man's head with a triumphant smirk as he leans down to kiss him dominantly, nibbling his lower lip. He continues down Sherlock's long neck, running his tongue along the sharp clavicles. Sliding one hand out of Sherlock's grasp to trace down his arm running it down along his torso the younger man arching into his touch; John teases a nipple into his mouth. Sherlock groaning as he squirms in the man's grip, John leaning back to remove his remaining shirt as the detective watches raptly.

"Not tonight," Sherlock smirks darkly before John can lean back over him, and flips their positions so he's now straddling the doctor pinned underneath him. He places a slender hand on the smaller man's neck to expertly pin him, stroking the skin softly as he grinds their erections together.

"Sssherlock," he moans, arching up into the contact.

The younger man bends over him sucking and nipping along John's broad shoulders, reverently tracing the scarred tissue with his tongue. Sherlock returns to his attentions to marking John's neck as his free hand slides down to work open their trousers and free their cocks. John hisses audibly at the barrage of sensations as the detective licks along the shell of his ear.

"You…" he tugs John's ear lobe, "Are," he hums, grasping both their erections in his large hand, "Mine," he punctuates with a lick as he begins to stroke them.

"Yesss…" John gasps, his hips twitching up to aide in the friction of the other man's hand. "God…" he pants, his hands grabbling for purchase on Sherlock's back.

The detective works efficiently each stroke more frantic than the last, John's nails marking the pale back under his hands as he nears orgasm. With a well placed bite, John's thrusting up as he cums loudly; Sherlock not far behind as they kiss sloppily, panting at the come down. Sherlock rolling to the side, his head pillowed on John's outstretched arm.

"I'm going to have to invest in turtle necks," the older man chuckles as his chest rises and falls quickly, touching the side of his neck.

"Nonsense," Sherlock hums his eyes closed satedly, "A scarf will do."

* * *

><p>REVIEW Please and Thank you! (They are helpful and super appreciated)<p>

PLEASE! Feel free to suggest prompts! The chances are I'll use it and they really help inspire me. (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!


	7. Post

After the Fall...

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><p>John was bone tired, having finished up for the day at his practice; he sunk into the chair at his desk and stared the paperwork before him. His eyes fell closed for a beat when there was a knock at the door.<p>

"Come," he clears his throat, "Come in."

"There's a man here, he insists on seeing you," Mary informs him.

He contemplates turning the man away due to the hour, but the doctor in him won't let him. "Send him in, then." He sighs, setting about looking over the paperwork, "You can knock off if ya want," he adds thoughtfully."

"Very well, thank you doctor," she nods with a smile before showing the man in.

The man is old, at least mid sixties, and hunched; John notes as he observe him. The man must have been a baby faced man because there was something youthful about him.

"How can I help you sir?" John inquires politely as he continues to peruse the files.

"I came to apologize lad," the old man murmurs.

"Oh?" he looks up in confusion.

"Ya probably don't remember, been a long day for ya's…" he chuckles, "I bumped into ya earlier with me pamphlets." He brandishes the flyer.

"Yes, quite alright, I probably was paying attention m'self," John smiles warmly, as he moves to the filing cabinet.

"'Tis kind of ya doc."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asks, returning to his desk to riffle through more papers.

"I see yer busy…" the old man leads.

"It's fine."

There's an odd shift in the air as what sounds like a different person clears their throat. John looking up where the old man had been standing only to see a ghost, he stares for a good minute with his mouth open in shock.

"John…" the familiar voice rumbles.

The doctor squeezes his eyes shut, as his name breaks the spell. Rubbing his tired eyes, figuring he dropped off to sleep he opens them again to the familiar sight of Sherlock Holmes and the plethora of emotions that follow. "Sherlock," he states his mouth quirking in a resolute frown of disbelief.

"Yes, it's me," he offers awkwardly.

"How…" John starts, pausing as he clenches his fists and licks his lips in search of the words. "It's been years," he enunciates carefully, his jaw tensing as he leans on his desk.

"I know…"

"This is a trick."

"I assure you it's not."

John inhales trying to calm himself as he crosses around his desk to stand in front of the other man. He searches the hauntingly familiar face before him trying to discern the legitimacy of the situation. "Why? You could have told me."

"I told you the minute I was able," Sherlock intones.

With out warning the doctor punches the detective across the face with a deft blow, "You fucking idiot!" He shouts.

"I deserved that," he touches his jaw gingerly.

"I'd bloody say so…" John huffs irately, "I buried my best friend, my… and you stroll in here like you just popped out to get milk. Fuck you!"

"Do you think that was easy for me," he states calmly, his eyes betraying his emotions. "He would have killed the few people I care about; he would have killed you John… I had to make sure it was safe."

"What happened to could be dangerous Sherlock? Sod safety."

"I couldn't risk that," Sherlock admits softly, "You're stronger then I am…"

He scrubs a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his eyes. "Moriarty?" he questions simply.

"No longer a problem, the whole web has been effectively snipped," he smirks.

The smirk earns another harsh blow from the doctor, this time splitting his lip. "Mycroft knew!" John reels with a fresh wave of anger.

"Of course, it was necessary evil," he wipes his lip with his thumb, "You certain you're a doctor?" he observes the damage.

"Soldier first," John states simply as some of the tension shifts. "Sod it," he swears under his breath before grabbing the detective by the lapels and slotting their lips together.

The kiss is desperate, angry, and full years of longing as they tare at each other.

"I'm still fucking angry at you," John admits as Sherlock's mouth nips along his jaw.

"Show me," he instructs darkly as he prizes the shirt off the smaller man's body.

John growls at that, pulling the younger man's shirt open as if it didn't have buttons and roughly pushes him onto the couch. Making quick work of their trousers, John straddles the even thinner than usual man and kisses him soundly. Sherlock's hands gripping his hips as they explore the new, yet old familiar territory; John sucking and biting a mark onto Sherlock's pale neck.

"Fuck Johhnn," Sherlock groans, exposing more of his neck as he cards his fingers through sandy hair.

"God I missed you," he pants, carefully sliding back down the writhing man under him. The desperation taking over as he can't be sure that this is real, but knowing that if it is there will be time for the proper reverence later.

Quickly and deftly, John sits back in between Sherlock's open legs ignoring his string cock and preps him. "Flip over," he orders gruffly once he's satisfied. The younger man quickly obeys holding on to the arm of the couch, his breath hitching as John drives home.

The doctor works up a punishing pace, grunting in concentration as the pale man pants under him. The sound of skin meeting skin echo's through the office, John grabbing hold of the shirt that was slipping off the other man's back and locking his arms in place. The action preventing Sherlock from facilitating his own leaking erection; John holds a sharp him bruisingly as he expertly hit the right spot as if it was purely muscle memory, which could very well be.

"If… you… ever… do… that… again…" he punctuates each word with harsh snap of his hips.

"I won't," Sherlock promises desperately, "I'm sorry, John…please," he keens.

The movements are growing more erratic, John expelling all his anger and sadness as he fucks the man below him. "Missed you," he pants, releasing Sherlock's shirt and sliding his hand over the bony torso to pull him flush against his chest and stroking it.

"John," Sherlock cries throwing his head back as they rock together; his hand holding the back of the doctor's head.

The older man pressing his lips to the shoulder beneath as he grasps the detectives straining cock. A few tugs and Sherlock arches as he cums hotly, John steeling the shout from his lips as he quickly follows over the edge. They stay together panting as they slowly regain composer and motor functions, John pressing a kiss to Sherlock's shoulder before slipping out, but not letting go of the other man.

They arrange themselves on the couch, Sherlock wrapped in John's arms as he rests against his chest. The older man lightly tracing patterns across the pale skin underneath and dropping chaste kisses at random.

"I love you, ya know…" John admits.

"I know," Sherlock nods quietly, lacing their fingers together contemplatively.

"You have a lot of apologizing to do," he warns.

"Yes…" he hums.

"We should head home, feed you up," John punctuates, running a thumb along the protruding ribs.

"Mmm…" he continues to absently threading their fingers, as they lie in silence for a beat. "I know I never said it often, but…" he admits, "I feel the same."

"I know your methods darling," he reminds, smiling as he kisses the top of the man's curly head.

"How could I forget," he smirks and burrows slightly into John's chest.

* * *

><p>REVIEW! Please and Thank you! (They are helpful and super appreciated)<p>

PLEASE! Feel free to suggest prompts! The chances are I'll use it and they really help inspire me. (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!


	8. Chat

For Jenna(s) request of blog comment bickering... ENJOY!

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><p>You have various spelling errors… thought you should know.<p>

Sherlock Holmes 20:31

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><p>You couldn't have mentioned that while reading over my shoulder?<p>

John Watson 20:33

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><p>I was distracted by all the trite nonsense you pepper my cases with.<p>

Sherlock Holmes 20:34

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><p>Most people want to read something engaging, not scientific.<p>

John Watson 20:38

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><p>Most people are idiots; it's hardly anything to go by.<p>

Sherlock Holmes 20:40

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><p>You two are the poster children for how technology is causing a breakdown in verbal communication… Though he's right Johnny, it's not on for a doctor to be shite at basic spelling.<p>

Harry Watson 20:42

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><p>Harry as eloquent as ever…<p>

Sherlock Holmes 20:43

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><p>I hate you both.<p>

John Watson 20:44

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><p>That's not what you said this morning.<p>

Sherlock Holmes 20:46

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><p>He's always been rubbish at lying.<p>

Harry Watson 20:47

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><p>Must I remind you that children read this…<p>

John Watson 20:48

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><p>What children? Your sister is the soul perpetrator here…<p>

Sherlock Holmes 20:50

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><p>That girl with the bunny, to name one… or have you deleted that.<p>

John Watson 20:52

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><p>Oi, don't pin this on me… now go and shag it out ;D<p>

Harry Watson 20:53 (*Comment Deleted by Admin*)

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><p>I said watch it Harry!<p>

John Watson 20:54

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><p>Must I remind you, that she contacted me via my own site. (And your sister's plan does seem less boring.)<p>

Sherlock Holmes 20:55

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><p>Which she found via mine, no little girl seeks out soil and tobacco ash information for kicks and giggles. (Ignore her)<p>

John Watson 20:56

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><p>How do you know? She could very well be an intelligent little person; her mother is a scientist after all.<p>

Sherlock Holmes 20:58

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><p>She named her bunny Bluebell.<p>

John Watson 21:00

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><p>Could be an anagram, I suppose.<p>

Sherlock Holmes 21:02

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><p>I'm not doing this with you, I'm trying to work.<p>

John Watson 21:03

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><p>Trying is different than doing; it's hardly my fault you type slower than an arthritic old woman.<p>

Sherlock Holmes 21:04

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><p>Can you lads, stop… you're distracting my men.<p>

Greg Lestrade 21:05

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><p>Maybe if they actually had a case to work, they wouldn't need to waste their time with sensationalism.<p>

Sherlock Holmes 21:06

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><p>Stop belittling what I do, you broody git!<p>

John Watson 21:07

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><p>I can't just conjure up crime, ya know.<p>

Greg Lestrade 21:08

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><p>You'd be infinitely more useful if you could.<p>

Sherlock Holmes 21:10

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><p>Aww the freak's having a fit, I'd so volunteer if we get a call about a domestic gone wrong.<p>

Sally Donovan 21:11

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><p>If anything goes wrong, it'll be me killing him! Now sod off the lot of you!<p>

John Watson 21:12

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><p>Probably best not to make threats in front of yarders, John, for future reference.<p>

Sherlock Holmes 21:13

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><p>"That's it," John stands up from his laptop; "Give us it," he orders snatching the laptop from the dark haired man lounging on the couch.<p>

"You're no fun," he pouts.

"You've lost your computer privileges."

"Yes, Mother," Sherlock intones vindictively, "Now what am I to do?" He glares.

"Read, experiment, clean perhaps…" he lists, returning to the table to continue typing.

"Dull!" he wines, "I'm bored John!"

"People who are bored are boring, Sherlock," John informs him, using the same adage his mum had when he was little.

"I'm not boring…" He grouses, huffing around on the sofa.

"Prove me wrong then," he states ignoring the other man's fit.

* * *

><p>REVIEW! Please and Thank you! (They are helpful and super appreciated)<p>

ALSO PLEASE! Feel free to suggest prompts! The chances are I'll use it and they really help inspire me. (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!


	9. Trip

For Rose(s) prompt... ENJOY!

* * *

><p>The two men were sitting in the train station waiting for their train, having left early enough as precaution against any incidents. John was sitting reading the magazine he brought, while Sherlock lounged in the chair next him deducing things in the busy terminal.<p>

"I think I may kill that infant," Sherlock drawled, commenting on the wailing child that had been screaming since they arrived.

"Morally I'd have to stop," he states, eyeing the frazzled mother as she rocked her kid, "Though I may let you." He returns to his reading.

"What's the point of this?" He bemoans.

"Holiday, Sherlock," John explains for the hundredth time since booking the trip. "You know, a needed break from dead bodies and psychopaths," he adds, getting strange looks from the people around them.

"I still don't see the point of packing up and travelling to a place walk about "taking in the sights"…" he sighs. "If you wanted to see old things we could have just gone to the museum, or had a chat with Mrs. Hudson." The last comment earns him a flick to the head and stern look from the doctor.

"It's supposed to fun," he sighs as he turning back to his magazine, "Besides you're assuming we'll leave the room," he adds in a low tone, just for the detective to hear.

"Still nothing we couldn't do at Baker street," Sherlock pouts, "And less chance of interesting things."

"Just humor me."

"I do little less," he pouts.

"At least pretend to be normal just this once," John huffs ignoring the previous statement.

"Normal is dull, and this is pointless, seeing as I'm not a nomad… there's no point in traveling about like one."

"No you're an anti-social, prat, with no mates… Just pretend you're on a case and it'll be over before you know it."

"I have friends…"

"You have two at best," he concedes.

"This is torture," he mumbles to himself.

The doctor shakes his head rolling up the magazine, "I'll be right back watch my seat," he stands, walking off before receiving a reply.

When John returns, Sherlock is scrunched up in his chair resting his chin on his knees while rubbing his temples as the child continues to cry. "Here," John smirks, as he sits back down. He hands the other man a bottle of water before doling out a dose of paracetamol.

"You're a brilliant doctor," He states swallowing down his the pills and handing back the water.

"I know," He nods taking the bottle and replacing it with a book of puzzles and pen, the detective's lips quirking, pleased at the new distraction and setting his legs back on the ground to sit normally.

Sherlock sets about solving the puzzles starting at the beginning of the book, John chuckles lightly as he pats the other man's knee affectionately and returns to his magazine.

* * *

><p>REVIEW! Please and Thank you! (They are helpful and super appreciated)<p>

ALSO PLEASE! Feel free to suggest prompts! The chances are I'll use it and they really help inspire me. (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!


	10. Mourning

John rolled onto his back to find the bed empty, which was a fairly common occurrence. Laying there for a bit while consciousness sunk in, he could hear the dulcet tones of a conversation in the sitting room. Sitting up, he shuffles sleepily to the door opening it to the hall and seeing Sherlock's familiar dressing gowned back at the work top of the kitchen. He smiles a bit, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he comes up behind the other man.

Stretching up on his tones he peeks over Sherlock's shoulder to see what he's doing, pressing a kiss to his neck before resting his chin there. "Making tea, then?" he hums, in mild surprise.

"It was either this or fratricide," he replies, relaxing back into the other man, but still retaining a bit of stiffness in his shoulders.

John squeezes his arm, stepping back to see the suited man in the sitting room, "Morning Mycroft," he nods stiffly.

"John," he greets airily with a nod of his own.

"I'm just gunna have a shower then," he says to Sherlock, watching him for a moment before parting with a reassuring squeeze to his upper arm.

When John returns Mycroft's gone, Sherlock sitting immobile in his chair. The detective's sharp eyes unfocused as he stares out into space, idly rubbing his upper lip with his index finger; John watches him think for a beat.

"What'd he want so early?" He questions, sitting his own chair opposite and picking up the news paper.

"Hmm…" Sherlock hums not moving for a beat, "Oh," he snaps back to reality, "Information…" he motions flippantly.

"What on?" he leads, turning the page of the paper.

"Unimportant."

John fixes him with a knowing look over the top of his paper, "Sherlock…"

"What?" his sharp eyes flick to the other man.

"Doesn't seem unimportant…" he leads.

"It's not my problem right now," Sherlock evades hopping to his feet and striding into the kitchen.

John watches him for a beat before returning to the paper, his mind wandering to what information Mycroft could have been bringing; the answer not one he wanted to think about. He felt a hand on his shoulder a minute later, looking up to find the detective giving him a reassuring look and small squeeze before returning to the file in his hand. The small action instantly makes John feel better for the time.

* * *

><p>REVIEW! Please and Thank you! (They are helpful and super appreciated)<p>

ALSO PLEASE! Feel free to suggest prompts! The chances are I'll use it and they really help inspire me. (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!


	11. Cold

An: Thank you all for the lovely reviews and comment in general... I know these chapters have been short, but so are my ideas... so if you have ANY suggestions for prompts etc... don't be afraid to suggest them. It'd be a GREAT help!

Thanks guys!

* * *

><p>Sherlock trotted up the stairs to the flat, pausing near the door when he heard the irate town of Dr. John Watson. He peeked in to see the good doctor passing about while shouting into his mobile.<p>

"No, no, you've said that bloody well before… Don't you think we're tired too?...Yes of course I think it's selfish, but I'm not pretending I understand! Then TELL US WHAT'S WRONG!" He looks down at the phone, the other person obviously hanging. John tosses his mobile across the room.

Sherlock using that as his cue to enter, "Alright?" he asks cautiously.

"No I'm not bloody alright!" he snaps, "Why is it freezing in here!"

The whole thing was an accident and Sherlock's not even positive how it happened, but here they are on one of the coldest nights of the year without heat. John had been livid despite Sherlock's explanations of it being only an accident and actually apologizing. John barricaded himself in the bedroom while the detective tried in vain to remedy it. Around ten o'clock Sherlock raps on the door unsure if the doctor was still cross with him.

"John?" he calls awkwardly.

"What is it Sherlock?"

"Can I grab a couple blankets, since you locked yourself away with all of them?"

"I never locked the door," John admits.

Sherlock cautiously enters the room to find the doctor sitting up on bed with his laptop and frown deep set upon his features. "You still cross?"

"Not with you, it's just been one of those days…" he sighs tiredly rubbing his eyes.

"Right, I leave you to it then," he picks up the blankets and moves to leave.

"You can stay if you like," John offers, feigning to go back to his blog.

Sherlock nods, wrapping himself in a blanket and laying down, wrapping an arm around John's middle so not to disturb his typing. He starts to doze, John idly thumbing the detectives arm as he finishes his write up. A bit later he closes his laptop and puts it on the night stand, snuggling into the blankets with the other man.

"It's Harry isn't it?" he wonders carefully.

John sighs, "Yeah… She was drunk again…"

"That's unfortunate."

"She was doing well it was actually nice being around her again…now this."

"It happens sometimes you know… I imagine it's difficult when your drug of choice is so readily available and socially accepted."

"Mhmm," John hums in agreement. "I still don't understand it, it's like she wants to selfishly ruin everything, Da would drink too… you'd think she'd not follow that path."

"It's not always so black and white, love…"

"I forget you know a bit about this type of thing," he smiles sadly, tugging at the cuff of Sherlock's shirt.

"It's a daily struggle, in a way… more so for her, the urge is always there… someday are better than others…"

"She keeps things from all of us though…" John sighs, cuddling up more, "Don't you do that to me too, you understand…"

"I'll do my best John," he promises.

* * *

><p>REVIEW! Please and Thank you! (They are helpful and super appreciated)<p>

ALSO PLEASE! Feel free to suggest prompts! The chances are I'll use it and they really help inspire me. (Note: I will not do marriage etc because personally that's out of character for them to me)

Thanks and enjoy!


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